


Too Little, Too Late

by Neila_Nuruodo



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, Patch 5.2: Echoes of a Fallen Star Spoilers, but not at the same time, no happy ending in sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neila_Nuruodo/pseuds/Neila_Nuruodo
Summary: 5.2 spoilers.When first they met, he was captivated by her brilliance.  But she could not see him for the shadow in which he stood.After a time in darkness, her sight has adjusted.  Now she sees his beauty.  But her own light burns too bright; he has averted his eyes.
Relationships: Elidibus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Too Little, Too Late

**Elidibus**

I studied the crystal bearer as she set her strength against that of my borrowed minions. It was a sight to behold; masterful and confident motions swiftly sent the lesser Ascians falling at her feet. With them defeated, she cast her gaze about, swiftly locating and approaching me. Aether-formed flesh had no true need of a heart, but I still experienced a twinge within my chest as she approached me. Fear, I told myself, for clearly she was a dangerous individual, and regarded me as a foe. Indeed, she drew her weapon, menacing me even though I did naught but speak to her. The sensation in my chest dimmed at the action, disappointment tarnishing the fluttering feeling.

Fear, I told myself, knowing within my innermost self it was a lie. The truth, though, would leave me vulnerable. I could not afford it, not now. Certainly not in the face of her hostility. Such emotions could be processed and dealt with later. 

It seemed that my phrasing betrayed me nonetheless, I thought as I challenged her for menacing an emissary. The ignorance, twice over now, was a disappointment, though in truth it was no surprise. And yet, though I had told the Antecedent repeatedly that I meant her no harm, that I came in peace, still she had approached me with threatening intent. It should not surprise me that this warrior did the same. It should not pain me. I prepared myself to disappear should she make to attack. For a mercy she did not; she but watched warily, unmoved by my compliments, unmoved by my warnings—my promises.

_ I am Elidibus, emissary—bearer of the word of the one true god. And we shall meet again. _

Naught I said moved her to stow her weapon, to truly  _ listen, _ and so I made my retreat, confident grin hiding my aching heart. We would meet again. That much, at least, I could make certain of. I bolstered my faltering hope with the promise that, once I had shown her the potential of the Echo, our coming conversation would be far more enjoyable.

Something to look forward to.

  
  
  
  
  


**Warrior**

In so many ways, he was much like Emet-Selch. The self-assurance, for one. He, too, wore his stolen body as though it were comfortable finery. His speech bore no trace of hesitance or chagrin, smooth and level tones seeking to hide as much as they revealed. He owned everything he saw by sheer force of will and personality.

To include me.

I could not say just yet at what point I had lost myself. Perhaps down in Amaurot, in the calm despair of a world with no tomorrow. Perhaps it had been a slower slide, falling alongside Emet-Selch as he descended into despair and grief. But I knew a good portion of my fascination came from hope—the desire and intention to find a path of peace, to learn more of the once-gentle inhabitants of this star. To see if perhaps, as Emet-Selch had once hoped, there might be a way we could coexist peaceably.

I bore his hope, now. And I would do right by it.

But it was not merely that hope that drew me to Elidibus, as sure as a moth to light. He was fascinating in his own right as well. An enigma from the beginning. White-robed where his brethren wore black. A proponent of peace from our first meeting while the others offered violence as a greeting. Coolly logical in the face of the burning fanaticism of the others. His primary concern the balance between our factions, the preservation of the Source, I now understood after my time on the First, rather than the Rejoining itself.

In truth, I wondered how I had not tumbled for him the moment we first met.

As he spoke I watched him with an intensity my comrades would surely attribute to the danger he stood to pose us; fortunate, perhaps, that they did not realize its true source. His voice wound about me, serpentine, slipping coils to constrict and bind me, and I had no desire, no will within me to resist. My heart tripped faster as he lowered his head in solemnity, eyes sliding closed.

_ Emet-Selch… How very unlike you, to err so gravely. _

My heart plummeted into my gut at his rebuff of our overtures, and the air within my lungs turned stone. I had hoped perhaps… well. It hardly mattered; that tender hope withered beneath the harsh glare of his cruel truths. My heart seemed to twist in my chest, his utter disregard deflating the bright joy that had burst within me when first he dropped his mask, when first he showed his glyph as proof of who he was and spoke his name.

_ Naught has changed. _

I could not refute his words. And so I stood silent, reaching for stoicism to mask myself as my heart bled, an invisible wash that only I could feel. Unable to move, to speak, to do more than hold myself in for fear of betraying something.

Something that, should he divine it, he would surely use against me.

_ I have my duty. _

Something that, should he turn its sharp blade toward me, I would fall upon it willingly at his request.

“Wait!”

But he did not.


End file.
